1. Jazz


    Date: 12/9/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    First his knee touched mine, and he put his hand there. Then he did something that really surprised me. He slowly slid his hand up my short dress and rubbed the inside of my thigh. He looked into my eyes to see how I’d react and I bit my lower lip and heard myself moan, looking back into his eyes, letting him know I liked how it felt. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You turn me on.” “Is that so,” I smiled, looking into his intense blue eyes then leaned closer. “I like turning you on,” I whispered in his ear and put my hand on his under my short dress, wanting him to move higher. Just then the trio finished their first set and came to the bar where Gabe and I sat. He pulled his hand away before anyone could notice. His father introduced me to the musicians. Chuck played drums and had a pot belly and a thin mustache. The other guy’s name was Al. He played bass and wore a baseball cap with a big A on it. They both looked at my tits but tried to hide it. “Hear you’re gonna do some tunes with us,” Al said before gulping down a whole bottle of beer without taking it from his mouth. “Do Blue Skies like you did the other night and you’ll wake up these drunks,” Peter said. “What was the other tune?” “All of Me,” I said. “Let’s do it real slow.” When the guys walked on the stage, I took Gabe’s hand and put it back on my thigh. He looked at me and smiled. I didn’t say anything but our eyes met and I bit my lower lip and for a minute forgot I was going to be singing in ...
    public for the first time. I just wanted to feel his hand moving up my thigh, but suddenly remembered where we were and sat up straight, took a deep breath and a sip of my ginger ale, my heart beating faster. The trio was playing an upbeat version of “Stardust” and Gabe removed his hand. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “I want to touch you all over.” “I’d like that,” I said softly and felt a tingle between my legs, surprised at seeing this side of Gabe, remembering that sense I had about him when we first met. I wasn’t sure what it was; just a kind of intensity and passion lurking beneath his quiet shyness. I saw it when he played the guitar for me in the park. Also, those blue eyes seemed to look into my soul. I knew I wanted him and knew he wanted me. I smiled, looking into his eyes, knowing it was just a matter of time. When they stopped playing “Stardust,” Peter said, “We have a special treat tonight, a great young jazz singer making her debut. Let’s give a hand to Ginger Lee Dawling.” I walked up to the stage as a few people clapped. Someone whistled and for a minute I wished I hadn’t dressed in such a short tight dress. I looked at the mike and moved it closer to me and squinted when I looked up at the spot light. I never sang into a mike before and tried to see the audience. Gabe’s father started a little intro and I snapped my fingers to set the tempo. I started singing, “Blue Skies” real slow, looking out at the audience. The place was half empty, filled with ...
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